


Beelzeburger Goes to In-N-Out

by frerarcl



Series: Obey Me! One Rotting Brain To Rule Them All [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Fluff, In-N-Out cinematic universe, MC is not described, MC's gender is not specified, Multi, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, everyone is mostly mentioned in passing other than mc/beel, no y/n business over here it's just that no one uses a name for mc, not gonna lie about that part, that's it it's just a soft lil date w beel, unnamed MC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24023578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frerarcl/pseuds/frerarcl
Summary: All you want to do is take your very large demon boyfriend on a date to try an actual human world cheeseburger. Is that so much to ask?
Relationships: Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: Obey Me! One Rotting Brain To Rule Them All [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732936
Comments: 6
Kudos: 129





	Beelzeburger Goes to In-N-Out

**Author's Note:**

> for my friend ally, who really wants to take beel to in-n-out. i also want to take beel to in-n-out. please enjoy :)

Your eyes squint against the sunlight. It's been a while since you've seen those golden rays, what with the whole "eternal night" vibe of your current place of residence. Finally, several months into your stint as an exchange student in the Devildom, you've managed to convince Lucifer and Diavolo that this trip is essential. 

"It's his birthday!" you had pouted, desperately hoping the look you were giving the future ruler of the underworld was closer to endearing puppy dog eyes and not absolute psychopathy. "He would love this! Please, just let me take him."

Lucifer had looked back and forth between you and Diavolo with some amount of trepidation. You knew that if it were up to him, you and your favorite demon would be embarking on your trip immediately. However, the approval process for allowing any demon other than Lucifer (or Diavolo himself) to go topside was regarded as Very Serious Business, and the Demon Lord was certainly treating it as such. (Really, you thought, it was all very  _ excessive _ , given the nature of the trip, but you weren't big on the concept of telling him how to do what he needed to do for you to get what you wanted.)

Here's the thing - it wasn't that Devildom cuisine was  _ bad _ , per se, but the issue with it was that even the restaurants that made "human-inspired" food tended to use ingredients you found less than edible. Why Hell's Kitchen laces their ketchup with arsenic is beyond you, for example, though Mammon swears it adds just the right amount of heat. Satan, unexpected social butterfly he is, eventually got the prep teams at most of the restaurants you frequent to make people-safe alternative recipes, and Solomon has been a surprising help with letting you know which ingredients and dishes you're better staying away from, but the constant danger means you end up eating at home more than anything. That would be fine if you were still living paycheck to paycheck at the dead-end job this exchange program snatched you away from, but you aren't, and you've also had the particular pleasure of falling in love with the Avatar of Gluttony. 

It had been difficult, initially, to come to terms with the fact that you were head-over-heels for Beelzebub. Upon first meeting him, he seemed so distant, so nonchalant about everything except devouring any item resembling food that might be so unlucky as to cross his path. As soon as you spent any time with him at all, you’d realized what a surface-level view of him that had been. His loyalty, his deeply caring nature, and his gentleness had stunned you, until the shock wore off and you realized, shit, he might just be The One, as cheesy as that had sounded even to yourself. 

Confessing those feelings had taken an additional month or so post-realization, not of your own accord. As sweet as Beelzebub was, he could be somewhat dense in affairs of the heart. How he could see your face, flushed as deeply as your skin would allow, as you fidgeted and tried to look at anything but his toned, sweaty form when he asked you to record his workouts for him and NOT realize you were dying over him was still unbelievable to you. Regardless, eventually you fought off the worms that liked to dance around in yours and Beel’s heads and make him realize that yes, you were in love with him, and no, not in the way he loved Belphie or Lilith, but more in the way Asmo loved himself, or possibly in the way he loved food, and it wasn’t until the last point that he actually internalized what you meant. It had taken him two heart wrenching days for him to digest his own feelings, but he had come back after that too-long interlude to tell you that maybe he was also in love with you, and that’s why when you’d cheer him on and ruffle his hair after one of his many dance battles it made his stomach feel like the most delicious thing he’d ever consumed was dancing a magnificent waltz around his insides. A few tears and several kisses later, it was decided that you were now dating a demon, which in the grand scheme of things really felt like it came out of left field. 

The first thing you set about doing was born of old habits. By god or Diavolo one, you were going to make Beel’s natal chart and compare your astrological compatibility. This was complicated almost immediately when you both realized that Beel didn’t know his time of birth, nor was he ever likely to, and his birth location was in the Celestial Realm, which had no human constellations for him to have been born under. On the bright side, he did have a birthday, though whether it had been chosen for him to celebrate his birth on arbitrarily or whether it was the actual day of his birth was unclear. It didn’t really matter; you didn’t need the stars to tell you that you were very much in love, or that he was in love with you, and on the bright side, you now had a day to call his. As the day approached, you issued a formal request for free movement between realms. Then you asked Lucifer about its status. Then you asked Barbatos. Then you asked Diavolo. Then you asked Diavolo again. By the fourth time you’d sent the same formally worded text to the Demon Lord, he was at the House of Lamentation to explain that there were several diplomatic tunnels for the request to pass through. You had a few choice words about what other tunnels it could pass through before all was said and done. (You were lucky Diavolo had been in a good mood that day, and you knew that, but damn it, you WERE going to give your lovely, wonderful, beautiful demon boyfriend the birthday trip of his very long life.)

There were a handful of details to hammer out on your own end even without the big question of when Diavolo would get your request channeled, including:

  * What outfit should you wear? March might be cold in some areas, but for your plan, your selection of locations is rather limited, and the possibilities are all places that would tend to be a bit warmer even in the early spring.
  * How would you approach Beel about this trip? A trip to the human realm to experience human food would thrill him, surely, but “hey, let’s go hang with the humans for your birthday” felt a little ham handed.
  * What should you do about Belphie? Now that he was out of the attic (and frequently plastered to your side pretending he didn’t really care if he was there or not), you felt you should do something for him. He probably wouldn’t want to third-wheel on a date with his twin and his twin’s significant other regardless of the many other extenuating circumstances, but you still needed a plan to keep him and Beel both happy with not being together on their shared birthday. 



Much to consider. You decided to start with the last problem first. That one, Beel could help you with. Beel, gentle baby giant he is, was more than happy to help you figure out a gift for the youngest brother, making lists of things Belphie liked far longer than you could actually use. The final product was a basket lined with soft, lavender-dyed cotton, filled past the brim with a range of snacks and teas Beel knew Belphie had a particular affinity for. There may have been a few homemade pastries in there as well, which you desperately hoped Beelzebub wouldn’t smell when Barbatos delivered them the night before the big day.

The following morning was filled with chaos and more pancakes than you had previously imagined possible to fit into one space. However, every day in the Devildom proved that your perception of what was possible could be pretty limited. The day flitted past in scenes of gift exchanges, snacks, and warm embraces that Mammon tried and failed to not get defensive over. Not having something to give your boyfriend wasn’t the most enjoyable part of the day, even if every time you apologized (which was probably too many times) for not getting Beel a physical Gift™, he looked at you with those big purple eyes and smiled and said that you were . the best gift he could’ve gotten in that soft voice and dear LORD what a precious boy. Barbatos was a saint of a demon in that he didn’t just bring Belphie’s favorite pastries but also Beel’s, and the irony in saying so was not lost on you. Even Luke dropped off some butter cookies for the twins - well, okay, Solomon dropped them off because Luke was afraid of the brothers even still, but Luke made them. Simeon sent over a card for each of the twins, with the exact preparation instructions for his famous BLTs artfully scrawled inside Beel’s with gold foil. 

By far, the best thing you got that day was a little note that Barbatos had passed you very discreetly while everyone attacked the tray of sweets he had brought. You hadn’t had time to open it until that evening, and the notice inside informed you of the news you had been hoping for for the past several weeks: free movement between realms had been permitted for Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony, and one Official Guest of the Royal Academy of Diavolo, which, you know, they could’ve put a name there, but whatever. The point was that you were bringing your boy one of the joys of the human world, and you couldn’t wait.

That was actually a couple of weeks ago now. The usual drama and schoolwork of RAD and the House of Lamentation combined meant that you’d had to push back the trip for a while, but today, oh glorious TODAY! You picked a flattering sweater/jeans/sneakers combo that was going to be just right for your outing, made sure Beel knew to look as human as possible (thank you, Levi, for a pair of green colored contact lenses he didn’t want because they looked too much like real eyes and not like those of the main character of his current anime obsession,  _ I’m A Demon Who Fell In Love With A Human, And Now That We’re Dating, We’re Supposed To Take A Trip To The Human World For A Date But I Made Eye Contact With A Waiter At The Restaurant We Went To And My Eyes Hypnotized The Entire Waitstaff And Now I Have A Harem Of Humans I Can’t Take Back To The Devildom With Me! _ ), and headed out. You had had to make sure you knew where to exit into the human realm, and after a little coaching from Solomon, you got it down pretty well and actually managed to avoid dropping into a dumpster two restaurants away from your target location. 

Now, here you stood, Beel’s hand wrapped around your own, staring up at the sign.

“In-N-Out?” Beel asks from beside you. “Smells good. What is it?”

“Happy late birthday! I wanted to bring you here then, but couldn’t get the approval, and then there was just  _ life  _ doing its thing, but this is my late birthday present to you. I visited this city a few years ago and everyone always talks about this place, and I ended up really liking it, so thought maybe you could try an actual human-style burger or twenty! This place lets you order one with four patties. Don’t know anywhere else that does that,” you explain, watching his expression go from mild confusion to the straight face he pulls when you can’t tell if you’ve done something really right or really wrong. The light pink that dusts the tops of his cheeks hints at the former.

“...Thanks. I don’t know that anyone’s ever really thought that much about a birthday present for me.” The flat line of his mouth curves upward into a sweet smile that makes the sun seem a bit dimmer. “Let’s go, then.”

The employee, a young man with a name tag that reads Matt, regards the two of you with the usual customer service politeness that greets all patrons, and you feel kind of bad that you’re probably about to bring the kitchen to a standstill with your order.

“Hey! Can I get a double-double, animal style, with animal fries, and… twenty 4x4s, also animal style, with uh. With probably 20 orders of animal fries on that. Also two extra-large drinks?” you ask the cashier. Matt gives you a nervous smile.

“Did you say… twenty separate 4x4s… and twenty orders of animal fries? Y-You do know those have four patties and four slices of cheese, right?” he confirms. Beel, who has been quietly marveling at the white-and-red diner-style interior, hums in agreement beside you, wrapping one large arm around your shoulders. “Um. Oh. O-okay.” looks down to ring up the order, and you’re somewhat surprised by the over-$1,000 price tag, but Beel slides a black credit card across the counter that you’re pretty sure has the name Lucifer Morningstar down for the name and asks you what to tip. A glance at the receipt confirms the name, and you still haven’t fully forgiven Lucifer for almost murdering you without ever showing any remorse for it, and you feel really bad for the kitchen, so you tell him to tip the bill with a smile. You know he doesn’t question it mostly because he doesn’t know human tipping etiquette, but Matt behind the counter seems thankful for the hefty sum. You hope he gets a bonus for this. 

The wait for the burgers is long, but you had expected no less. What was less expected was the lack of complaints about hunger from Beel, who you knew had to be feeling less than stellar, being surrounded by other customers who had come in after the two of you but received their food first, happily munching down with friends or family or just themselves. A good twenty minutes into the wait, you slide your hand across the table that you hope will be able to support the amount of food coming your way sometime soon.

“You feeling okay?” you ask your partner, wrapping your hand around his.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m great,” he replies with a smile, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I just… I know it’s taking a little while. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable sitting here and just… waiting,” you tell him.

“I don’t mind the wait.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You’ve gotten me the best birthday gift I think you could have. I only ever really celebrate for Belphie, but this is really, really nice.” 

“Oh!” you say, hesitating just a moment before adding, “You know… the present hasn’t really… arrived, yet. The whole concept was really just letting you try an authentic human world cheeseburger or twenty.”

He smiles at you like you sometimes smile at Mammon - gently, but with a real “you know I love you but WOW you can be dumb” sort of vibe beneath it.

“You know,” he starts, “I know I’ve told you this before, but food isn’t the only thing that makes me happy.”

“You always followed that with an ‘I think,’ though,” you smile.

“I know now that there’s something other than food that makes me happy. No ‘I think’ about it,” he tells you, that trademark soft blush of his settling across his cheeks. You regard him expectantly, waiting for him to tell you what the other thing is, though you’ve got a fluttering in your stomach that tells you what you really hope it is. After a couple seconds of loaded eye contact, you cave and ask him what it is. He laughs at you in the softest way imaginable, and says, simply,

“You.”

Suddenly, you don’t mind the wait.

* * *

“Oi! Finally you two are back! THE great Mammon has places to be, and Lucifer wouldn’t let me go until the two of ya got home,” shouts the second-born from beside the fireplace as you walk through the door. 

“How was your date? Anything saucy or salacious you would like to tell me about?” asks Asmo from his place opposite Mammon.

“It was good,” you offer with a smile, and leave it at that.

“It was the _best_ ,” says Beel, arm wrapped around your shoulders. His other hand holds two carryout bags. (“I want to save one for Belphie, and a couple for myself. If anyone else touches these… It would be much worse than the custard,” he had told you, eyes turning grim only for a moment before walking to the counter and requesting a bag for the few remaining burgers.) 

“Hey, wait! If that’s the best burger Beel’s ever had, then take me, too!” Mammon calls after you. It’s only a little too late - by the time his sentence ends, you’re in the entrance to the kitchen, watching your boyfriend dig through the fridge to figure out where the bags should go. 

“You know, I thought you would like ‘em, but I didn’t realize In-N-Out would be the best burger you’ve eaten,” you grin, leaning against the entryway.

“Well,” he responds, standing and heading back over to where you stand, “they were really good, but that’s not why this was the best. It was the best because I got to spend the day just with you.”

The warmth in your face travels down into your chest, where it remains until you’re both curled together in Beel’s bed, falling asleep in the arms of the most angelic demon you’ll ever encounter.


End file.
